


Guide

by TheRookieKing412



Series: Fakiru Week 2019 [4]
Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M, blind, medical assistant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20756171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRookieKing412/pseuds/TheRookieKing412
Summary: Fakiru Week 2019: Guide. Blind AU. In which Ahiru is under-qualified and being a live in nurse is way out of her scope of practice.





	1. Buttons

“So will you do it?” 

Ahiru sighed. It’s not that she didn’t want to, and it’s not that she didn’t think Raetsel wouldn’t put her into a situation she was uncomfortable with, Ahiru just didn’t think she was capable. 

“I dunno, isn’t it more of a nurse’s job?”

“Yes, but his regular nurse needs a break, it’s only a week, and Ebine only agreed to go on vacation because I promised her I’d get her a replacement.” 

“Wh-what do I even have to do!” 

“Just take care of him, make sure he takes his eye drops, that he doesn’t break things, or use salt instead of sugar. It’s very simple.” Raetsel said. “And I’ll still pay you, every hour you’re there, I’ll pay you.”

“I dunno. It’s just… weird. It’s not like anything I’ve ever done.”

Ahiru bit her lip. She had been a medical assistant at Raetsel’s private office for three years, she did the simple things, taking vitals, giving shots, drawing blood, but standing in as a live in nurse for a blind man? It wasn’t in her scope of practice. 

“It’s like babysitting.” Raetsel said. “Except he’s a grumpy 26-year-old who drinks whiskey instead of apple juice.” 

Ahiru sighed, there was no way she could say no. She had never been able to. 

“Fine.”

“Oh good, a couple things, he does have a seeing eye dog but she’s not the best, so try not to treat her like a normal dog, but not even I can resist giving her some ear scratches. There is some medicine he has to take; he doesn’t want to take that medicine, Ebine’s tough on him, and he’ll think he can take advantage of you, but don’t let him. I know you can do this, Ebine will explain the rest.” 

Ahiru didn’t think Raetsel was serious as Ebine lead her through the house, telling her what everything was, where everything was, all the medicine he had to take and when, where his pens and notebooks were. 

“In case he asks.” Ebine tapped the cover of a spiral notebook and sighed. 

Ahiru nodded. She was wearing a pair of scrubs, her hair pinned to her head in a bun, she made the effort to look professional… although, maybe that didn’t matter anymore. 

Not like he could see or anything. 

“So, where is he?”

“Out walking with Hessia. It’s one of the only things I let him do by himself.”

“Oh.” Ahiru knit her eyebrows together. It must have been hard, the poor man was being treated like a baby, not only by his friend, but by his nurse as well. 

“Well, I’m going to be leaving to catch my flight, but he’ll be back soon, you are welcome to use my room, go ahead and get settled, and you can introduce yourself once he gets back.”

“Right.” Ahiru nodded, she waved goodbye to Ebine as she drove off to the airport. 

Ahiru went down the hall to where the bedrooms were, there were three doors; the room Ebine had taken for herself, the blind man’s bedroom and what Ebine had described as a library. 

She was asked not to go inside. 

Ahiru took some time, changing Ebine’s sheets and bedding and replacing them with her own, putting her scrubs and clothing into the top drawer in the nightstand - including the one button up shirt that had lost a button and needed mending - given to her graciously by Ebine, and she was almost done when she heard the front door open, and the barking of a large dog. 

“Quiet down, Hessia.” 

That was him. 

Ahiru shut the drawer in a way she thought was quiet, but apparently he heard. 

“Hello?” 

“Oh! Uh, yes! Hello!” Ahiru went out of the room closing the door behind her and went to the front door, where he stood, facing the opposite wall. 

“Are you Ebine’s replacement? The MA Raetsel sent?” 

“Uh, yes!”

“There’s no need to shout.”

“Oh, sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Hessia.” He knelt down and Hessia was beside him, ready for her leash to be taken off. “What’s your name?” Once the leash was gone, she shook her entire body before running off.

“Raetsel didn’t tell you?”

“No, that’s why I’m asking.” His tone was icy, perhaps icier than she thought was completely necessary. He stood, his hand running against the wall until it found the leash hook. 

“Ahiru Armia. It’s nice to meet you.” Ahiru stuck out her hand, but then realized he couldn’t see and put it back at her side. “Uh- what’s your name?”

He scoffed. “I suppose Raetsel didn’t tell you either. Fakir. Basilio. Fakir Basilio.” 

“So, um, Ebine was telling me-”

“Don’t listen to what Ebine tells you.” He snapped.

“What?”

“Ebine thinks I can’t take care of myself. I can. Don’t worry about having to babysit me, I’ll be fine. Think of this as a paid vacation.”

Ahiru started fiddling with her fingers. “Well, Raetsel was saying that you don’t take your medicine and that I had to- “

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off. “I’m not going to die. Even if I didn’t take it.” 

He moved past her, his shoulder bumping into hers, and into the kitchen.

Ahiru followed him and watched as he moved around the kitchen, keeping one hand on the counter as he pulled out ingredients for dinner. 

She cupped her chin in her hand as she leaned against the counter. “What are you making?”

“Dinner.” He paused. “You’re welcome to have some once I’m done.” 

“Oh. Thank you. Do you want me to help? I’m not the best cook, but I like doing it with my roommates-”

“No thanks.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you can! I just like cooking!” She pouted and crossed her arms.

He didn’t respond for a moment, and she thought he would ignore her.

Then, he put the bottles of seasoning on the island where she leaned, “Can you check to make sure it’s right?”

“Mmhmm.” She took the different bottles and read their names. “Basil, oregano, thyme, uh- this one’s cinnamon-” He took it out of her hand and put it back. “Rosemary, garlic powder, salt and pepper.” 

Fakir hummed and nodded. 

“So… what are you making?” She asked, trying to be civil again.

Fakir moved around her, his hand moving over her back when he came across her, he pulled out a stool chair for her before moving back into the kitchen.

He wasn’t anything like she expected. 

“Alfredo. I have all the ingredients for it, and it’s the best thing I know how to make.”

She nodded, but then remembered he couldn’t see. “Right. I like Alfredo.”

Whenever he needed something, he silently put it in front of her, she measured out heavy whipping cream and flour, and it didn’t take long for him to finish. 

He put a plate in front of her (as close as he could get) and took the seat next to her.

It was at this time that Hessia came back, her head on Fakir’s lap and she whined loudly.

“Stop. Go wait by your bowl.”

She huffed before trotting away, collapsing by her food bowl and licking at it.

Ahiru giggled. “Is she hungry?”

Fakir scoffed. “She’s always hungry. She’ll eat after we’re done.” 

Ahiru nodded, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder and pouting at Hessia. The poor baby. 

“Here, I can do the dishes. It’s only polite.” Ahiru took his plate away and went to the sink.

“Fine.” Fakir said. He slipped off his stool and walked to the end cabinet, he opened it and inside were three sets of medication bottles. “Will you read the labels for me? They both feel the same.”

Ahiru dried her hands and took the two orange bottles. “Ibuprofen.” She tapped the bottle to the counter and he picked it up, opening it and pouring two pills into his hand. “And… sertraline?”

He snatched it from her hand, opening it and taking one out. 

“Thank you.”

Ahiru nodded. “Sorry. Of course.”

“What did you apologize for?” Fakir walked around her, groping the cabinets until he found the right one and pulled out a cup. 

“I keep nodding.”

“Oh.” He gave an airy chuckle. “It takes a while, but you’ll stop. Charon used to do it at first as well.” 

He filled up his cup at the sink and took the pills.

“Do you need help with the eye drops?” Ahiru asked, picking up the one bottle that was different from the other two. 

“I don’t need your help.” 

She glared at him, only a little, and watched as he struggled to get to bottle right over his eye, the drops landing either in his lashes or on his lids.

“Ooh, just let me do it!”

He didn’t say anything, slamming the bottle onto the counter instead and crossing his arms as he cast a glare, aimed for her but slightly off target. 

He sat on the stool and placed his dark sunglasses on the counter, he leaned his head back and opened his eyes. “Two drops.” He said.

Ahiru nodded. “Shoot. Yes. Do I have permission to touch you?”

“Are you going to ask that everytime?” Sounding annoyed, he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Legally, I have to, but… do I have consent to touch you for the rest of the week?”

He nodded. “Yes, you do.”

She rested the tips of her fingers on either side of his eye, prying open his eyelids. 

He had such pretty eyes. 

“One, two.” She dropped them into his eye and he immediately started to blink, she moved to the other, the same green. “One, two.” 

“You’re gentler than Ebine.” 

“Oh… thank you.”

He held out his hand for the eyedrops.

“The rest of the night is yours, I won’t need help getting ready for bed.”

Ahiru nodded. “Okay.”

“I don’t have a TV, either.” Fakir said, putting the three different medicines back. 

“That’s fine.”

“I listen to the radio.”

Ahiru smiled. “What do you listen to?”

“Classical, it’s the least distracting.”

He left her then, wandering out of the kitchen, a few moments later, she heard a radio turn on, a piece she recognized but couldn’t remember the name of, from a ballet for sure. 

She finished the dishes, doing even the ones from earlier in the day, and she was about to leave the kitchen, when the cabinet with his medicines caught her eye. It would be nice if there was a way for him to tell them apart.

She snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it!” She went back to her borrowed room and dug into her bag. 

She was glad she thought to bring her sewing kit and the shirt that was missing a button. 

“It’d be nice if I had my hot glue gun. Hmmmmmmm.” She looked out her door, to the room where the classical music came from. Moving across the hallway, she knocked lightly on the door. “Uh, Fakir?” 

The music was turned down. “What?” 

“I’m going to go home real quick and get something, will you be okay?” 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

She smiled. “Okay! I’ll be back soon!” 

He didn’t say anything else and the music turned back up.

The drive was short, and as she climbed the staircase up to her apartment, she knew she would surprise her roommates by coming back. 

“Pique! Lillie!” She called. “I came back!” 

“Ahiru? What are you doing?” Pique called out. 

“I came to get my hot glue gun. And maybe some ribbon.”

“Why? That blind guy wanted to do some arts and crafts?” 

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Aw!” Lillie called. “Send us a picture when he’s done! I’m sure it’ll be so cute!” 

Ahiru gathered her supplies, went back to Fakir’s house, knocked on his door to tell him she was back and set to work in the kitchen, gluing four buttons to the top of the ibuprofen, and gluing a golden ribbon braid around the bottle of the antidepressants. 

The next day, Ahiru was up at six, getting ready and prepared to help Fakir in any way he asked. But when she stepped out of her room, she didn’t expect him to be up already, much less holding the two medicine bottles in his hand. 

“What is this?” He asked, and she couldn’t decide if his tone was more confused or upset.

“It’s so you can tell the difference.” She took them back and gave him one. “The buttons on the top, for ibuprofen.” She took it back and gave him the other. “Ribbon for antidepressants.” 

“Ahiru-” He groaned. “I don’t save these, they get thrown away.”

“But now you don’t have to ask! You can do it yourself. And you can always just put the new medicine in these bottles. Or just do it to the new bottles.” 

He scowled, taking the bottles back. “I suppose I could. Buttons for…” He ran his thumb over the top cap, whispering to himself. “Ribbon for…” He thumbed the ribbon. 

He hummed and turned away. “I have to go to the grocery store. Ebine reads the labels for me and drives.”

Ahiru nodded, stepping out into the hallway to eat a quick breakfast and get ready to go.

She was in her car again before she knew it, classical music on low, as Fakir adjusted his seat. Normally Pique or Lillie sat up front, and his legs were simply too long for the amount of space that was given. 

“It’s this one.” Ahiru said, leaning over and pulling at the bar under the seat, watching as he slid back. “Oops. Is that enough space?”

He groaned, not prepared to be flung back. “Yep.”

“Alright, let’s go!” She pulled out of the driveway, breaking hard when another car drove past. “Oops. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

She pulled out of the drive, only to break just as hard at the stop sign. 

And then at the light. 

At the second stop sign.

When she had to turn.

And in the parking lot.

“God, do you know how to drive?”

“Do you know how to be polite?” 

She slapped a hand to her mouth. “I’m so-!” But when she looked over at Fakir, he was struggling to hide a smirk. “Sorry.” 

“Let’s go.” 

It was nice to go shopping, it was one of the things Ahiru liked to do with friends, the light conversation as someone pushed a cart, the gentle satisfaction of checking off a list. 

Fakir pushed the cart, he had a red cane, but now it was folded in the child seat, and Ahiru held on to one side of the cart as a guide, holding the list in her other hand. 

It was simple, most of what he got would be on her shopping list as well, and this was the same grocery store that she herself went to.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Ahiru stopped, putting a bag of grapes into the cart. 

“I’m a stay at home blind man.” He said dryly. 

She pursed her lips and squinted her eyes at him. “Yeah, but how do you pay for this? For a live in nurse?” She added a bag of cherries. 

He was silent and she looked back over her shoulder. “I still have money from my previous career.”

“Must have been some career if you’re still doing so good.” 

He was silent, and Ahiru was sensible enough to let it go. The expression he wore wasn’t a happy one, and it was a worse glower than she had seen resting on his face before.

She brought up another topic, something about ballet, and he was more receptive to that. 

She drove them home, trying to drive better and started to put the groceries away while he made lunch. 

He asked her, recutantly, after lunch to give him eye drops, apparently he took them three times a day, and she almost asked for his consent to touch him again but held her tongue. 

Fakir moved around the house, cleaning and tidying things, and she caught herself watching the way he moved around things without having to see, he didn’t even bump into anything, it was impressive, she didn’t think she’d be a very good blind person. 

He told her when he was going out for a walk and she chose to fix the button on her shirt. 

She abandoned her scrubs the next day, wearing something more comfortable as she moved around, helping Fakir make breakfast, helping him clean, giving him eye drops, and spending her afternoon reading.

He sat on the couch next to her after dinner, tensing when he heard her flip the page. 

“What are you reading?” 

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing.” She looked over at him and he looked annoyed, she continued before he could say something. “It’s a fairy tale book. It’s a retelling of the Grimm and Hans Christen Anderson tales by my favorite author, Lohengrin. Sometimes it’s a straight retelling, and other times he’ll mix stories together, even stories that I didn’t think could work together, he mended them together really well, I can’t imagine them apart now.” She smiled up at him and he looked like he was on edge. 

“The critics said it was his worst work.”

Ahiru pouted, she held the book to her chest. “Well, it’s my favorite of his. It’s fun to read stories I’m familiar with in his style, with his characters, and the ones mixed together. Critics just don’t like to have fun.” 

“Read it to me.”

She blinked in surprise, putting the book on her lap. “Alright.” She opened the book to her favorite story. “This one is a mix of Cinderella and the Woman in the Woods.” 

She was nervous at first, reading the words blankly, void of emotion, but as she wrapped herself up in the characters, feeling their emotions for them, and understanding their plight, she couldn’t help but let her words grow with empathy, she poured her heart and soul into it.

And when she finished, she forgot she had an audience.

She felt her cheeks grow red as she looked over at Fakir. The look on his face was solemn, contemplative. 

“Hmm. I think the critics were right.”

“What? No way!” 

“His style isn’t as distinct here. It’s one of his earlier works, so it’s understandable.” 

“But, that’s not all that matters! I love his characters, and how well Cinderella and the Woman in the Woods fit together is astounding! I love how he handled it! And there are so many other stories like it in here that I love!”

There was a slight smile on his face. “Do you like any other books he’s written?”

“Oh, yes! All of them! He hasn’t written a single thing I don’t hold dear to my heart, but…”

“But what?”

“Well, nothing. It’s just, he was a new, up and coming writer six years ago, and he was popping out stories and books every year, and I’ve been waiting for his next story, but I can’t find anything about what happened to him, why he stopped, if he’s taking a break, if he died.”

Fakir scoffed. “He didn’t die.”

“Well how do you know!” 

“I-” Fakir stood, he moved away from the couch and before he left, under his breath, he said. “Not yet, anyhow.” 

Everyday was some variation. 

Breakfast, medicine, lunch, a walk, dinner, and she read to him. Every night he asked her to read to him, every night until she left, and she took the opportunity to prove to him that the book may not have been Lohengrin’s best, but it was still something to be cherished. She helped him clean and cook, she helped him give Hessia a bath.

It was late when she was giving him his nightly medicine. Her hands gently touched his face, probably touching more of his face then was necessary. She was closer to him too, his knee pressed into her thigh, and as he blinked the medicine into his eye, she rested her hand on his face, her thumb hovering over his cheekbone. 

He closed his eyes, letting her touch him. 

“Can I-?” He asked softly, letting the words fade before he even finished.

“Can you what?” She asked, her tone matching his. 

“Can I touch you?”

Her heart quickened. “Wh-what?”

“Your face. I don’t know what you look like.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “Oh, of course.” She swallowed hard, taking her hand away as he raised his hands. 

He started with her jaw, slowly running his finger tips over her skin, up to her cheeks. 

“I have freckles.” She said, her voice still barely above a whisper.

He nodded. “Here?” He asked, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and she nodded into his hands. 

“And there.” She said, as he met her nose. He ran gentle hands over her eyelids after they fluttered closed. “My eyes are blue.” 

Over her eyebrows and to her forehead, his fingers flinched as they were tickled by her bangs. 

“What color is your hair.”

“Red.”

He ran his fingers over her temple and down the sides of her face, until his thumb reached the corner of her lips. 

He paused, and she could see the blush of his cheeks, before he ran his thumb over her lips.

She felt her cheeks burning and she pulled away from his touch “I have to go!”

She ran to her room, shutting the door behind her before she fell against it, her heart thundering in her chest. 

The next morning she couldn’t even look at him, she felt so bad for running off.

It was the last day, Ebine was supposed to be back sometime around ten, or at least that was the case before Fakir received a call at eight saying that there was a bad storm and no one was leaving until it was over. 

“Are you okay with staying for a few more days?”

“Huh?” Ahiru looked up as she filled Hessia’s bowl. “Oh, sure is everything okay?” 

“Yes, Ebine’s flight was cancelled.” 

Ahiru nodded. “That’s a shame.”

“Right, a shame.” He cleared his throat and moved into the kitchen. “Listen, about last night-”

“It’s fine.” Ahiru stood, putting the scoop back in the food bin and locking it. “You asked, I said yes.”

“I made you uncomfortable.” 

“No.” Ahiru rubbed her arm through her sweater. “It’s just… It’s been a long time since… since.” Ahiru raised a hand to her lips. “Since anyone’s touched me like that.” 

“Then I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I didn’t mind.”

“You ran away.”

“I-I- didn’t expect to-” she licked her lips. To like it as much as she did. “I have to go pack.”

“Wait, Ahiru.”

But she didn’t wait, she went to her room, and started busying herself with packing, and about an hour later there was a knock at her door. 

Fakir cleared his throat. “I made lunch.”

“Okay.” She called out, her voice uneven. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

He was gone when she came out. He had left a messy note that just said WALK, the letters overlapping, the two lines that made up the K not even meeting. 

It made her smile and she picked up the note, putting it in her pocket. 

She ate lunch, put away the leftovers, finished the dishes and sat on the couch with their book, not wanting to read the story she saved to read tonight. 

It wasn’t her favorite, mostly because they die in the end, but it was his take on Romeo and Juliet and Sleeping Beauty, with the added bonus of the Princess and the Pea. It was a lot, but she admired it, and she could only wonder how much time he took creating the stories, deciding which ones to cobble together, which fit best, and which, while not fitting best, would still make for an interesting challenge. 

He didn’t come back for a long time, and when he did, he started to work on dinner. 

He didn’t ask her to do his eye drops, all day he hadn’t, and she had been avoiding him for most of the day, so she missed how he struggled to aim, the drops landing in his lashes and rolling down his cheeks.

“Let me do it.” She said with a gentle voice, she held the bottom of his hand to let him know that she was there, ready to take it. She wiped at the excess drops with her thumb before putting them in his eyes. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it earlier?” 

“I thought.” He flinched and blinked it in. “I thought you were upset with me. Are you… upset with me?”

She took the opportunity to look into his eyes, to admire the color and just how pretty they were, it was a shame he chose to wear those dark glasses all day.

“No. No, I’m not.”

She smiled at him, a gesture of good will, but realized he couldn’t see. She took his hand and guided it to her lips. “See? I’m not upset.”

She closed her eyes as the tips of his fingers fluttered over her smile. She guided him to the couch and showed him the last story, reading it with as much feeling and gusto as she could, until the very end. 

As the tale ended, and the sleeping beauty Juliet woke up from true love’s kiss, her back sore from laying on the pea, she found Romeo dead beside her. 

Ahiru’s voice grew softer, describing the way Juliet picked up the dagger and pierced her heart, she was only found in the morning by the Queen, who had placed the pea under her bed as a test. 

“And the Queen pressed a kiss to her son’s forehead, saying a quick prayer, not seeing the witch that stood behind her, her plot foiled too. The Princess was only meant to have fallen asleep, awakened by true love’s kiss, and then her family would have learned their lesson. Instead, she found them both dead.

“What started, so simply as reprehension, turned to the ultimate punishment, and the ultimate loss.” She looked up, noticing for the first time how close she was to Fakir.

But she doesn’t move away, and neither does he. Surely he can sense how close she is, and she can’t help but stare, he has such a handsome face, how had she not noticed how handsome he was until now?

“Do you know what it’s like to lose all hope?” He spoke softly. 

Ahiru nodded. “Yes, I do.” 

“I lost my sight a year ago, a head injury. I didn’t get amnesia or die, but I lost my sight as a result, and I never thought I’d be able to write again. I couldn’t type as well as I used to, I lost any inspiration, any inkling or spark of creativity, and I didn’t think I would ever be able to write again.”

“Fakir, what are you saying.” 

“With you here, I want to write again.” He lifted his hand, his knuckles brushing against her jaw. “Lohengrin is a pen name. Ahiru, I-”

The door slammed open. “Fakir! I’m home!” Ebine shouted. 

Fakir and Ahiru both jumped away from each other, and Ahiru shot up from her seat and speed walked to her room.

Ebine started talking amicably about her trip, seeing her sister again, the spa they went to, and of course the horrible storm she got caught in. 

Ahiru had everything packed, and she took her bag to her car, loading it into the truck, and getting ready to leave, when-

“Ahiru!” 

Ahiru looked back to the door, finding Fakir framed in light. 

“Wait!” He called, and he ran outside.

She turned back to her car, and closed the door. “It was nice to meet you, I had a really good time helping you and taking care of Hessia.” 

“Are you really just going to leave?”

Ahiru was stuck, she didn’t want to leave, she liked being there, she liked Hessia, and reading more than watching TV, she loved that he loved classical music, she liked helping at meal times and… 

She liked him.

“I- I have to. I’m not your nurse anymore. And you can’t just ask Ebine to leave, that would be unfair.” 

“She works with an association, they would find her a new patient to take care of.”

“I can’t. I have to go back to the way things are supposed to be. Where I work in Raetsel’s office, and you live as a stay at home blind man.” She smiled slightly, but it faded.

“I don’t want to just be a stay at home blind man. Stay with me.”

Ahiru pouted. “I can’t!”

She went around to the other side of her car and got in.

It had been a week.

And somehow everyone could tell she was upset.

“Ahiru, welcome back to the- Ahiru, are you okay?” Mytho asked, he was a nurse, and her friend in the office. 

Ahiru shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m fine.”

Raetsel noticed and told her to take the week off, claiming she couldn’t have sick personnel. “You come back when you feel better, and only when you feel better.”

Rue noticed too, but she was less adamant about it, lifting an eyebrow at every sigh and discontented face Ahiru made. 

It had been a week by the time Pique and Lillie decided to intervene. 

“Okay spill.” Pique said, flopping down on the couch. “What happened with that blind guy?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing happened.” But her lip tingled with phantom sensations. 

“Then why are you so sad?” 

“It’s a great look on you!” Lillie smiled. 

Ahiru sighed, slouching into the couch. “It’s nothing.”

“Uh-huh, and I think the earth is the center of the universe. C’mon, cough it up, just tell us.”

“I just… miss him. There, happy?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing at all happened, it was just so normal.” It wasn’t like the movies, there was no grand meeting, there was no big fight out in the rain, there was no jealous female trying to pull them apart; there was just him, blushing red when he touched her lips, trying to hide his smile at her outbursts, the way he asked for help, how he would just sit on the couch and listen to her read; he wasn’t the hero of the story, strong and heroic and ready to save the day, but he was Fakir. 

He was Fakir and she wanted to spend the rest of her days with him. 

“It was only a week.” She whined, groaning into her legs. 

She told them everything that had happened, not leaving anything out and when they met eyes over her slumped back, she missed the mischievous look in their eye. 

“You’re in love with him!” Lillie told her.

“What? No I’m not.”

“Uh, you definitely are. What are you still doing here? Go tell him!” 

She was pushed off the couch by her two friends, and she dug her heels into the floor.

“No, no, no, no, no, no! I don’t love him, I was only with him for a week.”

“Nope, get over there and tell him!”

Ahiru was pushed out of her own apartment and stood, gazing at a locked door. They opened the mail shot and pushed out her car key and her wallet. 

“Go get ‘im!” 

“Yes! Go confess your undying love!”

Ahiru sighed, picking up what fell to the floor.

They were right, maybe not about the love thing, but she had to go talk to him.

She was nervous, knocking at his door, her car parked dangerously on the curb.

Hessia barked loudly.

“Who could that be?” Ebine said as she opened the door, “Oh, Ahiru, did you forget something?”

“No, I-”

“Ahiru?”

Ahiru looked past Ebine to Fakir, his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

Ahiru snuck under Ebine’s arm until she stood in front of Fakir. “Fakir, I came back.”

“You did. Why?” 

“I-” She took a deep breath and fiddled with her fingers, suddenly feeling silly that she came back. “I don’t know.”

“Can I show you something?”

Ahiru nodded. “Yes.” 

Fakir took her hand and led her away from the front door, down the hallway that held the rooms and opened the door to the library. He turned on the light and lead her inside, showing her what was a rather small room, the walls covered in bookshelves, and in the center was a desk with a closed laptop.

“The keys are made with braille.” He opened it up and showed her a document he hadn’t closed. “Read it.”

It was a short story, not even a page long, but she fell in love with it instantly, and she recognized the style as soon as she finished. 

“How- how did you get it?” 

“I wrote it.”

“No, this is definitely something by Lohengrin, how did you get it?”

He smiled, giving her that airy chuckle, he reached out for her and she took his hand.

“Ahiru, I’m Lohengrin.”

“What? No you’re not you‘r-” She stopped herself, what had he said? Lohengrin was a pen name? Her mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’ she lifted his hand to her lips. He laughed again and it was a pleasant sound.

“I wrote that after you left, Ebine read it out loud to make sure all the words were correct and edited it. I haven’t written a single thing in a year.”

“You’re Lohengrin.” Then she blushed. “I was reading you your book, telling you that you’re my favorite author, and that I thought you were dead, and trying to convince you that your book was good.”

“I needed it. I needed convincing, I hated that book, it was the first thing I had ever written, my publisher almost dropped me because of the bad reviews.”

“It’s my favorite.” She whispered, pressing her lips to his hand. “You’re my favorite.”

“I know.”

“Fakir, I-”

“Stay with me.” He said. “Stay here, don’t leave again.”

“I missed you so much.” 

His hand left her lips, cupping her face, and his other came up, too. 

“I missed you, too.” 

There was a knock at the door, and his hands disappeared from her face. 

Ebine smiled at them, “I’m going out for the night with some friends, Ahiru, I trust you’re staying?”

Ahiru nodded and Ebine winked, shutting the door.

Ahiru turned back to Fakir and grabbed his face, running her thumbs over his cheekbones as he raised slow hands, keeping them on her waist before pulling her closer. 

His thumb ran over her lip. 

She stood on her tiptoes and guided his face close to hers, he wrapped his arms around her tightly as he took her lips with his. 

“Stay.” he said, his lips moving against hers.

She nodded.

“Stay with me.”

“I will.”


	2. Strawberries

A year ago, he was in an accident. 

He hit his head, and his whole world was turned upside down. 

Or maybe… 

His world went dark. 

He opened his eyes and he couldn’t see and he thought he was dreaming, only it wasn’t a dream. 

He remembered sitting up, and a rush and his head ached like nothing else, and someone was pushing him down. 

“Fakir, wait, Raetsel says you shouldn’t get up just yet.” 

He was lucky he knew a doctor, someone who would tell it to him straight. 

He had hit his head, and as a result, he went blind. 

“I don’t know if it will ever go away, if you’ll get your sight back, but- Fakir?”

He had stopped listening, he looked down-

He tilted his head towards his hands, he couldn’t see them any longer. 

Charon had gotten him a laptop with braille keys. 

“I can’t read braille.” He said.

“Well, uh-” Charon fumbled. “You can learn, you’ll have to, but at least you can write.” 

He tired, he tried to write, but nothing came out. 

He had been working on a story, and he just needed the last chapter before he could send it to his publishers, but as he started typing he realized he wasn’t the greatest typist in the world.

His fingers hesitated over the keys, and even in his mind’s eye the keys became jumbled. 

In fury, he ripped the bookshelves from his walls and they came crashing down around him, trapping him in the library, and he couldn’t stop the salty tears that ran down his face. 

“He won’t eat, he has bags under his eyes… he hasn’t written anything in months.”

“I’ll write him a prescription.”

He didn’t take it, he didn’t need it, he thought. He wasn’t suicidal, but Raetsel and Charon thought otherwise. 

Hessia had been given to him the day after he woke up, and a cane was pressed into his hands. 

“You’re eyes actually don’t look to bad, I think you could forgo wearing sunglasses.” A nurse had told him, but he scoffed and soon he never stepped foot outside of his room without them on. 

Ebine came after he had pulled the bookshelves down… 

And after he called Raetsel to tell her that he accidentally poured salt into his coffee. 

She was kind, and when she saw that his antidepressants had gone untouched since he had been given them, she had forced him to sit down and gave him a sound scolding. 

She watched him every night and every morning to make sure he took them. 

Hessia was the only good thing that came out of being blind. She was no seeing eye dog, he didn’t care if she technically passed, she barked at every squirrel, person, car, bike, dog that passed and it made him feel normal, like he was just out for a walk with his dog. 

She obeyed his every command, and only his command, she stopped walking when they came to a light, and lead him to the crosswalk button. 

She was big and fluffy and would lick his hand, or his face, whatever was in range, and she was happy to be with him.

She didn’t treat him like he was blind. 

After a year had passed, Raetsel took another test. 

It was… doubtful that his sight would ever come back. 

He figured as much. 

“I’m going to visit my sister, but only for a week! And I’m only going because Raetsel is finding someone to take care of you while I’m gone.” 

Great, another stupid nurse who would force him to take his medications and watch with a hawk’s eye as he did, someone who made sure to check on him every once in a while to make sure he wasn’t about to kill himself, and someone who would suck him dry. 

He wasn’t expecting… her.

She was loud and stumbled all over the place, and perhaps he was rude to her at first, but somehow she was still kind to him. 

He ran his thumb over the button’s on top of the medicine cap, and the ribbon on the other. 

So he could do it himself.

So he didn’t have to be watched. 

And she stayed out of his way, only asking if he wanted her help instead of insisting that she did.

Truth be told, he wanted her help, she was loud, something he could hear, something that could put his mind at ease. 

She hummed, and spoke to him with such ease, she would tap her toe, she was never still, but he enjoyed that. 

She helped him bathe Hessia, which was always something he insisted he did himself, but Hessia loved Ahiru, so much that she even listened to Ahiru if she gave the dog a command. 

And that was a feat not even Ebine could accomplish. 

“Who's a good dog? Who's a good girl? You are!” 

He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips turning up as she gave Hessia praise, and her wet, soapy tail bashed into his leg.

He felt his heart stop when he heard the turning of a page, it was a sound he hadn’t heard in a year, Ebine never read except in her room, she had a stupid amount of pity. 

And to think, it was his book she was reading. 

_ His. _

And it was her favorite, he was her favorite author, and this was her favorite book. 

He felt like he had betrayed her and when she spoke of her worries about Lohengrin, thinking he had just gave up or had died. 

“I’m right here, I’m not dead, I swear, I’m right here.” He wanted to say, he wanted to tell her everything, but instead, he settled for listening to her read. 

And he loved the sound of her voice, he loved the sound of his words on her tongue. 

But he couldn’t stop his shoulders from flinching when she read over a bad metaphor, and he wanted so badly to rewrite the book, so it was better. 

For her. 

He hadn’t meant to ask to touch her. 

But he wanted to see.

His heart stopped until she said yes, and when she said yes his heart started thundering. 

Her skin was so soft, and he could feel the way her jaw flinched and tensed. She had freckles, dusting over the bridge of her nose, the apples of her cheeks and he could just imagine them, scattered like stars.

Blue eyes, like the sea or the sky? Sapphire or lapis? A deep navy, or a pale cornflower? He wanted to know. 

He almost let his hands fall, but he wanted to know what her smile looked like, what her lips looked like, the lips that read him stories, what were they like? 

He brushed the corner of her mouth and he felt her sharp gasp, could hear her uneasy breathing, and he knew he should back down, that he should stop, but he couldn’t.

Her mouth was slightly open as he brushed his thumb across her lips, a different texture from the rest of her skin, softer, feeling more like the velvety petals of roses than two lips. 

She turned and ran away. 

He made her breakfast, and put in his eye drops by himself, though he could feel them roll down his cheek than rest in his eye.

He made her lunch, but she was still locked up in her room, he knocked on her door, but before she came out, and before he even ate, he took out Ebine’s notepad and a pen and wrote a note for her. His hand shook, it had been over a year since he had held a pen in his hand, and he wasn’t entirely sure she would even be able to read it.

She read her final story, her thigh pressed against his, and could feel her intakes of breath, and the words she spoke on his collar bone, and he took his chance, trying to tell her, but then Ebine came, and she…

She was gone. 

Everyday slugged by, Ebine watched the next morning as he took out his medicine and took it without being asked. 

He sat down at his desk and opened the laptop that Charon had gotten him, he was better, now, at typing blindly, and reading braille, but it was still a struggle, still a source of anxiety. 

It was only a few paragraphs, but it was a start to his final chapter. 

He had no way to get to her, to call her, and he thought that he would never see her again. 

He was too prideful to ask Ebine or Raetsel where she was, how to reach her. 

And he felt so stupid, there she was, for a week, in his hands, so close, and now…

Now she was probably already forgetting who he was.

He would just be another entry on her resume. 

He didn’t expect her to come back, he didn’t expect to show her what he had written - especially the end to the story! - but she was here, in his arms, kissing him and promising she would stay.

He couldn’t get enough of her, he couldn’t stop stealing kisses from her mouth, or trying to memorise the contours of her face with just his lips. 

She giggled, and let him, turning her head this way and that, making sure that each and every spot was traced. 

“Fakir.” She said, his name a whisper on her lips, and then she gave a harsh gasp. “Fakir!”

He turned his attention away from her face, her neck was a place he had never touched either. 

And she was warm, god she was so warm, every inch of her skin burned under his lips and he couldn’t stop. 

Her hands traveled to his hair, her fingers running along his scalp before fisting, he thought she would use it as a leash, to pull him away, but instead she molded her body up to his, and kept him in place, drawing her closer, if it was possible. 

He kissed the base of her neck and when his mouth reached her clavicle, he couldn’t stop his lips from parting and he darted his tongue out, eliciting from her a staggered inhale, a sharp gasp, and a small moan.

He ran his hands up her side, wanting, more than anything, to touch her completely and entirely.

One of her hands left it’s hold of his hair and traveled down his back, clawing at his shoulder.

“Fakir.” She said, breathlessly and wantingly. “I-I’ve never-”

And then he stopped, of course she had never.

...But he had never, too. 

“Neither have I.” He said. 

“Oh.” She sighed, and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Should we stop?”

“Only if you want to.” 

She nodded against his shoulder before she said. “Do I have a consent to touch you?”

He couldn’t stop the smirk. “I already gave you permission, didn’t I?”

She laughed into his shoulder, and before he knew it she was dragging him away, out of the library and guiding him to his room.

She didn’t turn on the lights, as far as he could tell, he didn’t hear the sound of the light switch, but he knew it was a dark room, and it ought to have been with no window to speak of, so now they were on an even playing field. 

Well, perhaps not so even. 

It was his turn now, to guide her across the room. 

“Wait.” She said, and when he paused, she grabbed his face and pulled him down.

“Mmph!” 

She giggled, and he couldn’t stop himself from bending down to grasp her thighs and pulled her off the ground. 

She gave an enticing little scream and wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her ankles behind him.

She broke the kiss and he went back to tending to her neck, sucking at the precious skin, savoring how her thighs plused against his waist, and when her chest heaved against his when he did something right. 

“You know, I’ve only known you for a week.” She stated, and he couldn’t figure out why she brought it up. “Isn’t this going too fast?” She squealed when he bit her. 

“If you want me to stop just say.” He said, but his hand moved up and down her thigh as the other ran up her side, over the softer material of her shirt, stopping before he went too high, but his thumb brushing against her breast nonetheless.

“No! No, I don’t, but Rue would say-”

“And who’s Rue?” He asked, turning his head to the other side of her neck. 

“My friend- ah!” She arched into him as he sucked her neck, and his thumb dug its way under her bra. “Since high school. She would say-” She mewled into his ear when his thumb made its way higher, still separated by fabric, but he knew he was touching sensitive skin. “We’re going too fast.”

“You lived with me for a week, and you just agreed to live with me again.” He reasoned, god, if only he could take off her shirt and that pesky bra, then he could feel her, and hear her breath quicken. 

“O-oh.” She whimpered, her hips squirming, her warm legs squeezing his middle. “I guess that’s true.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Mm.”

She tilted her head as he traveled up her neck and took her earlobe in his teeth. She leaned heavily against him, his hand still playing with her breast, and the other slipped over her leg, up her shirt and he splayed his fingers against her back, just as soft as the rest of her, just as warm and electrifying. 

He started walking and when his legs hit his mattress he set her down, he shivered at the loss of contact, but her hands grabbed his and she pulled him on top of her, her lips finding his messily. 

He ran a hand into her hair, it was red, she had said, but she failed to mention how soft it was, and when he pulled her hair she groaned. 

“Don’t stop.” She mumbled, and he didn’t. She pulled away, to put her body further up on the bed, and he chased after her, his hand finding her hip, and the other came to intertwine with hers. 

She lifted her hand and started grabbing at his shirt, snaking her way under until her hot little hand was pressed against his torso. 

He stole his hand away and tore his shirt from his skin and as he leaned over her, he heard the hitch in her throat as she ran her hands over his chest, gentle and slow, as if touching him would make him disappear. 

She sat up roughly, her head bumping into his chest, but he heard the woosh of fabric, and he knew that her shirt was gone. 

“There.” She said. She was nervous, he could tell, but with shaking hands, she grabbed his wrists and guided him to her chest. She let out a stifled groan as his hands were laid on her chest. 

She laid down, and he crawled over her, holding himself up on one arm, he took his time, gently touching her breast with his hands, the swell of her breast, the tautness of her nipple, where her soft skin disappeared and her puckered skin began, the peaks hardened into nubs that, when he rolled over with his thumb, would make her back arch, pushing herself more into his hands.

She spoke his name, and hissed when his hand left her, moaning when his hand landed on her other breast. 

His hand streaked down her stomach, feeling it quiver at his touch.

He kissed her neck again, trailing down her chest, her kissed her breast and then her nipple, savoring every sound that came out of her, he lashed out his tongue, enjoying how her skin felt under it.

He lifted his other hand, his thumb rolling over her nipple as his mouth laid claim over her breast, smirking as her breathing grew heavy, as her leg lifted and brushed against his bare side, as she arched her back, as she threaded her fingers through his hair again, forcing his mouth to take more of her in. 

She smelled like strawberries. Every inch of her smelled like candy strawberries, her hair, her breast, and at every opportunity he buried his nose into her skin. 

It was intoxicating. 

“Fakir.” Her voice labored, she was struggling to even speak. “I-I need-! Ah!” 

He let his hand trail down her abdomen, stopping at the top of her jeans.

He rose away from her, his hands finding the button and the zipper and pulling it all away. She sat up and squirmed out of them and he took his chance to do the same, and when she was ready, she laid back, grabbing his hand, she kissed his palm. 

He stole his hand away and pressed his kissed palm against her and couldn’t stop the groan from escaping his lips. 

God, she was so  _ wet _ . 

He kissed her again and again and again as his hand started slow movements against her. 

He ran his fingers over her center, circling them over the flesh and feeling her shiver against him. 

“Fakir.” She groaned out his name with so much longing he couldn’t stop as two of his fingers dove into her. She threw her head back in a groan and he started moving his fingers inside of her. 

She grasped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her thighs clenched around his hand, pushing it deeper. 

She was intoxicating. 

He pulled his hand away and she whimpered at the loss of contact, groaning his name, but he didn’t listen, instead he grabbed her thighs and pulled her up. She yelped as he wrapped her thighs around his neck and he pressed his tongue into the same spot his fingers once occupied. 

Ahiru let out a deep throated moan as his tongue started making patterns against her walls, and perhaps it was selfish of him, but he couldn’t deny his simple desire to know what she tasted like. 

And it was indescribable. 

All he knew was that it was like sticking his tongue in something thick and hot, and her taste was almost sweet, not the strawberry that was the rest of her skin, but he didn’t know if he could stop. 

He did. 

When she moaned loudly and thrust her hips against his face.

He chuckled against her, pulling out his tongue and kissing her other lips. 

“I-I need-”

“Something bigger?” 

She groaned, her hands fisted into the fabric. 

He put her back down and licked her stomach up to her breast, he swirled his tongue around each nipple, going slower when she mewled. 

When she could, she dragged his face to hers and gave him a rough kiss, his lips crushing hers, he bit her bottom lip and positioned himself just over her entrance. 

“Still think we’re going too fast?”

“Now you’re not going fast enough.” She whined, brushing her chest against his. 

He was feeling hotter, the whole time, he had done his best to ignore the burning ache that grew between his thighs, to pleasure her, to feel her, to ravage her, but now he couldn’t ignore the bulging erection that wanted to know what she felt like when her tight, wet, walls wrapped around him. 

“You can tell me to stop.” He whispered, brushing her hair from her face, he wanted to look into her eyes, to see if she was scared, or nervous, anxious, or ready. 

But instead, she took his hand, and guided his fingers to her lips, pulled into a small smile.

“I don’t want you to ever stop touching me.” She said, her lips brushing against his fingers tips. 

He kissed her again, and pressed himself into her, slow and languid, and he heard her break away from the kiss to let out a loud groan.

“Fakir!”

“Does it hurt?” He asked, peppering her jaw and neck with kisses.

She was silent, just breathing, and then she moaned hotly against his ear.

He couldn’t stop as he started to move, the friction delicious, he was slow, unsure, until she whispered: 

“Faster.”

In his ear, as her legs wrapped around him, forcing him deeper inside. 

He wouldn’t disobey her, pulling out before ramming into her.

“Oh! Oh, Fakir!” She cried out, her thighs squeezing him, running up his sides, and she only encouraged him to go faster, to go harder. 

He was sure she would bruise, his hips bucking against her wildly, he didn’t hold back, he could hear the bed frame under them starting to shake, but he ignored it all because all he could pay attention to were the sounds she made, she was practically screaming with each thrust, calling out his name, calling out commands. 

He was so close, he could feel it, but he knew she was close as well. She didn’t just lay there, her hips met his every thrust, just as thirsty as he was, just as needing, just as wanting. 

“Fakir.” She groaned, before yelping, “I-I’m!” 

“I know.” 

She gasped, she pulled him to her and called out his name again as he felt her walls tighten around him, and that was his undoing, with one last thrust, he came inside of her, her walls milking him for all he was worth.

She relaxed, her limbs falling uselessly on the bed, and he collapsed against her. 

She panted, but giggled as he started kissing her jaw. 

“Ahiru.” He whispered before he could stop himself. “I love you.”

She hummed in contentment, running her hands through his hair. “I love you, too.” 

He pulled himself out before doing his best to cover them with his blanket. 

He didn’t ever want to leave, nuzzled against her warm body, and she placed her head under his chin, his arms couldn’t help themselves as they wrapped around her. 

“Stay.” He said again, as if he was afraid she would leave him after  _ that. _

She nodded her head against his chest. “How would I leave? My legs feel like jelly.”

He sighed and shook his head before kissing her’s. “Stay with me.” 

“Is that a marriage proposal?” 

“It’s going to be if you don’t answer my question.” His hands were quick as they tickled her side and she started convulsing against him, laughing and pulling away.

“No, no, no, no, no! Don’t do that.” 

“Than answer me.”

She pressed her smile against his shoulder. “Of course I’ll stay. Oh, Fakir?”

“Yes?”

“Am I going to sleep in here or across the hall?” 

Fakir started rubbing her back, too soft to be considered real. “Why on earth would you stay across the hall?” 

She shrugged and pressed her grin further into his chest.

“Idiot, of course you’ll sleep in here.” 

“Okay. Good.” 

She was silent, and he was too, brushing his hand through the loose strands of her hair, he didn’t realize how long it was. 

“Ahiru?”

“Hmm. Yes?”

He pressed his nose into her hair, breathing in the scent of strawberries, he couldn’t get enough. “I love you.”

She wiggled against him, perhaps in happiness. “I know. I love you too.”

She was warm and every inch of her bare skin pressed against his own and for the first time in a year, it was so easy to fall asleep and dream of stories. 


End file.
